Tuesday, 29 August 2006

Airports AncientThe companion work to the rather larger volume 'Airports Modern', this intriguing coffee-table book includes details of the Ithaca Aerodrome, the great landing plains of the Nile Delta, and Ninevah International Transport Hub.

Interjection JesusWe know from the gospel of Luke that even as a boy of twelve Jesus was found in the temple, debating with the elders. But the author of this theological study has found more details in the apocryphal gospel of Leslie, revealing that the young messiah was in fact a right little know-all, given the nick-name 'Interjection' Jesus by his rabbis from his habit of piping up during talmudic debate with comments such as 'Yes, obviously'; 'Doesn't sound like Dad to me' or 'Tell you what -shall I just ask him?'

Overseas PatellaThe inspirational story of little Chrissie Brown of Newfoundland, who in 1983 was involved in a serious dogsled accident, and urgently required a knee transplant. But so uniquely knobbly was her kneebone that the only suitable donor that could be found was an old man in a remote village in the Scottish Highlands. And so began a thrilling dash across the Atlantic to track down the donor, forcibly remove his knee, and return it to Chrissie before it went all green and manky. Heart-warming.

Quran RopeworkIslamic boyscouts! Impress your troop leader and the Almighty in equal measure with this guide to rendering the 99 names of Allah in knotted twine! Instructive, but potentially blasphemous if you're hamfisted.

Surveillance TeaSuspicious of how much work the builders are doing while you're out of the house? Worried about what the au pair or babysitter gets up to? Surveillance Tea is the answer, according to this brochure from Janus Security Devices Ltd. Brew them a pot before you leave, flick the in-handle camera and the up-spout microphone to 'on', and prepare to learn the worst.

Yes! Yes she did. Good old Mrs Barton for remembering me! I would have thought the only BMS teachers I might stand a chance of being remembered by would be Mrs Wright, because of the time I dropped those chairs in the pond, and Mrs Cotton, because of the time I tried to boil water on the hob in a plastic jug. I was a delightful child.

(NB for anyone else reading this: Mrs Wright (and Mrs Reid) taught English, and Mrs Cotton taught Home Economics. Because just occasionally life is like that. We also had a Miss Old, who was young; and a Mrs Young, who was old.)

We were carrying them back from the assembly hall to our classroom, across the courtyard, and over the pond via, if you can believe this, large stepping stones. Thinking about it, if the teacher saw no potential snag in a class of eleven year olds carrying chairs across stepping stones, the fault may not entirely lay with me.